Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Good to know.
I test my leg, putting weight on it, astonished at how easily I rise. “Thank you,” I manage to say. The pain that has dogged me feels like a memory, and with it, some of my uncertainty lifts. I feel stronger—more myself again. You don’t realize what a hold pain has over you until it’s gone.
Tapio’s deep eyes shift between us, lingering on Rasmus then returning to me and the Magician. “I hate to seem insensitive, but we really should get going.”
“We’ll find them, don’t worry,” I tell him. “And once we do, I know just where to go. Louhi has spread her influence wide. Her servants, her allies—they’re in the open. They’ve taken over Tuonela. We need somewhere to gather and hide far away from her, somewhere she would never suspect us to go.”
The Magician tilts his head. “You have something in mind?”
From the tone of his voice, I think he already knows what I’m about to say.
I nod. “Castle Synti. Louhi’s palace by the Star Swamp.”
Rasmus makes a muffled sound of protest—he knows the place. Everyone does. The Star Swamp is a realm of luminous bogs, of twisted spirits, of dangerous illusions. The swamp itself isn’t made of water but of Oblivion; falling in means a fate worse than death. After Louhi left my father, it became her own seat of power in the north, one she shared with her shaman consort, Ilmarinen. It’s the last place she’d think we’d go, a place no sane creature willingly ventures, let alone us.
“Her palace?” Tellervo asks, her antlered head tilting in disbelief. The animals in Tapio’s beard grow silent, as if stunned. “You want to march right into her old domain? When everything that surrounds it is Oblivion?”
“Not march,” I say. “We sneak and we hide. We plan. She won’t be expecting us there, not if she believes we’re searching for her in our usual haunts. We find Nyyrikki and Mielikki and we head straight there. If we can do it undiscovered, then we might be able to gather enough allies and make a good enough plan. It’s shelter. We can turn it into a fortress.”
The Magician’s galaxies flare in a silent show of agreement. Tapio’s forehead creases with concern as he nods gravely, while Tellervo stares at me for a moment before she finally gives me a wry smile.
“You’re mad,” she says softly, “but I think we might need to be in order to survive.”
She gets it. I look over at Rasmus. “Well? If you know something or have anything to say about this plan, now is the time to speak up.”
He gnaws on his lip for a moment. “Ilmarinen is still there. Louhi left him behind.”
“And? He is mortal, is he not? I’m sure we can take care of him.”
“He is still a shaman, no matter how much magic Louhi has drained from him,” he says. “Remember, it’s his power that helped her gain so much. It would be a mistake to discount him.”
“But she’s been torturing that man for years,” Tapio says. “How could he still be on her side?”
The look in Rasmus’ eyes darkens. “Because that’s what abuse looks like. That’s what brainwashing looks like. Your loyalty is ingrained in you through pain,” he adds quietly. “Until it becomes all you know.”
I have to admit, I’m starting to feel a little sorry for Rasmus. I know I shouldn’t; I know he’s probably trying to manipulate me after I saved his life, after he saw my compassion, my weakness. My father never would have made such a mistake—neither would my mother, for that matter. Where I get this bleeding heart from, I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t like it.
My eyes meet the Magician’s face, and I feel strength in those spinning stars. It gives me my resolve back.
“Then we’ll be ready for him and whatever magic he might wield,” I say as I nod at Tapio to lead us through the forest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TUONEN
Rangaista, I think, my heart sinking like a stone as the figure comes down the steps into the dungeon.
The demon has returned to pay its grandson a visit after all.
But as it approaches, the shadow gets smaller and smaller until a dog made of metal, fur, and bone appears, sitting back on his haunches, his iron tail scraping against the ground as it wags.
“Rauta!” I whisper. “You came!”
Rauta lifts a paw as if to wave at me, and I notice the soft padding under the metal, enabling him to sneak around quietly.
“Good boy,” I tell him, moving to the bars and crouching down to his level. His head tilts, and he looks at me as if to say, now what?
“See if you can find something to break me out of here,” I whisper. “Are there any keys hanging on the wall somewhere?”